I'm probably as introverted as you can get without being pathological. I've long pondered over the oddity of people seeming to live not for the substance of their thoughts and actions but for the reactions and interactions provided by others. Such an attitude, I think, can only be accepted as "normal" due to it being held by a majority of people. Otherwise we should surely classify such a point of view as pathetic at the least and as pathological if the minority were small enough.
And yet even for me there is an elemental motivation toward interpersonal interaction.
I noticed the fact this morning as I was thinking about my researches into the life and times of Jan Amos Komenský (a man who seems never to have shared my introverted proclivities). Having put together last night a broad portrait of Komenský's history for an upcoming study group, my impulse is to want to present the sketch to somebody in a dry run ahead of the group meeting.
This example might be explained away as a very rational desire to get feedback on how other people may see and appreciate the outline, and to identify weaknesses to be remedied ahead of the study. It might if the motivation were experienced as a calm and rational desire. But in fact it manifests as a burning flash of extrovertism.
[I'm well aware that purists insist that the correct usage is "extraversion" but the purists, as usual, are wrong. The allusion is not to something "extra" or "extravagant"; the intent of the word is to evoke a belief system opposite of and opposed to introversion.]
Such alien glints are not restricted to the facilition of learning. There are times, for example, when ennui or weariness saps my intellectual focus and I turn to the itnernet news sites or even my personal email account in the hope that someone else will have defined for me a subject to which I ought to attend. Rationality is an unlikely excuse for such an episode.
In actual reality there are none so pure or lofty as to be immune from experiencing the common human condition.